Long Satanic Poems
Long Satanic Poems. Below are the most popular long Satanic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Satanic poems by poem length and keyword.
“Peace is found amidst seclusion. When zealous zephyrs emanate lilac light for lovers, longing for a poetic paradise” ~ Poet
Close your eyes, lend your ears~
to the Universe…
In silence you will hear
the turquoise seas
call my name
every full moon,
carrying tunes of
teal green breeze,
manipulating my mermaid psyche
to fabricate a mystical island,
from scattered sandbanks
afloat lyrical lagoons.
Tonight, the winds keep
talking about you and I;
truth behind your fate,
an unwritten destiny of a planned
hideaway to a poetic beachside,
where a delicate rose
dressed in thornless moon rays,
awakened my desire to sail away,
but I know when
time comes,
you’ll be gone.
Nothing stays constant
in this inconsistent world
where sleep is the only comfort.
Yet, my heart still
grieves over your death,
as you’re the phantom
in my dreams,
and the balmy
breeze of life
wants you to know,
my soul longs to see you,
reflecting our
enclasped silhouettes,
across silvery ripples,
whilst I allow zealous zephyrs
to read you
these unspoken poems
infused with
suppressed sentiments,
while opium dusts
of stars intoxicate
my mind to embrace us,
to whom, I’ve been weaving
colorful confessions,
in rhythmic notions.
Close your eyes,
lend your thoughts
to the rising sun,
I am not silent anymore,
I am silence,
strong enough to allow you
to take me by the hand;
swim against satanic tides.
For I’ve heard sea birds
sing soothingly;
there’s always
a ribboned ray of rosemary
light at the cusp of loneliness~
to the ones that allow their eyes
to see beyond eclipsed realms.
Remember you’ll find paradise
in dimmed spheres,
evoked from
savage sunbeams,
but aren’t we
the architects
that can cast away
shipwrecked lies?
to welcome sacred nightfalls
savored in infinite saffron streams
of cosmic delight,
navigating forever, as
soulmates meant to be,
reunited within
an everlasting embrace,
where iridescent rain pours~
a planktonic spell upon
edges of sea-glass,
piercing through
this aquatic spirit.
War for our souls
Inexplicable reason crying foul,
Final war for - the soul of man
The ironic scarcity of happiness
Mass contract killing sanctioned, tho allowed
And simply, all, just because
- they can..?
Search for neither limit bound
Across the Earth dimensions fold,
For spiritual trap - nonetheless
In pictures, movies, of Cabaal
Trickery, sorcery forever sold
manufactured wars through constant lies
Promoting, funding - of all sides
Conflict of purpose truth be told
Ignoring victims and their cries
Banksters printing, Profit making
FIAT currency usuary system
Maintaining undue persistent stress
Corporates in unison with
government a formality
This their form - insipid totality
Choosing their vehicle to oppress
Pandemic nonsense lying stats,
why would they want this - for us?
Revealing, but exposed no less
We cannot carry on in this way,
cycle of torment to ourselves
Prediction now of man's success
All wars satanic so they say
But most poignantly now, this final one, though it never relented, it never went away..,
Are all deniers idiotic then?
Or does their salary then depend
on such intended pay for play..
Rhetorical license words suspend,
All the things that however defile us, including private and mass hysteria,
And disbelief - amongst other things, to which there appears no end,
Freed from mesmerised compliant inertia,
For spiritual Gnosis be regained,
But willing and able all shall pass,
Protect oneself properly, the one true intellectual property, that always had remained,
Entire matrix paradoxical lies
Nothing is lost, but yet forbidden
to the unknowing crippled masses,
- remember..
All is possible
Although it is yet,
all..
- still hidden.
Kurt Hubbard-Beale
During covid 19 lockdown
October 2020
The PoetTree on Telegram
Awaken Poetry. Awareness Poetry. Geopolitical. Philosophical. Music. Shared
I gaze beyond the phasing face
of the nebulous horizon,
searching in clamorous silence
for a hypnotic glimpse
of your poetic sparks ~ lost,
placed within the kohl-dust
of dreariness dressed
in deceitful dancing diamonds,
like layered silver and gold,
seared by Zeus’s thunderous wrath,
leaving memories engraved
in satanic sapphires
across the tempestuous teal
soaked in surging tears
unshed and unseen...
I’ve long been fighting
demons masked as the raven visage
of my bleeding silhouette,
preaching kindness whilst feeding
my soul with venomous verses ~
the poisoned truths of past turbulence.
But I refuse to drown in despair.
I will dance through the
dimmed spheres ~ eclipsed and torn ~
to reach the amorous arms
of compassion,
awaiting amidst splitting sorrow.
And when it rains,
my heart quivers,
haunted by inner thoughts;
my mind paints lines of love
in darkness and disarray,
for I fear never seeing
the saffron light on
the moon’s tender lips.
And in the midst of
p u s h i n g and p u l l i n g,
trapped in aching coldness,
afraid of losing the warm,
golden strands of roseate dusk,
I hide and fade like
love’s heat at twilight,
burying the poetic longing
within storms of melancholy,
waiting for another
cup of coffee at sunset ~
where your name ricochets
like reveries of romance
and your voice reverberates
like musical mists of monsoon,
carving an ambience
of delicate desires
tying me to the ombre amber
s i n g i n g songs
of solace, forevermore....
Moments become wet steppingstone
over a stream of consciousness.
At breakfast, a TV delivers omens
with a perky disposition.
Buttering grilled bread, distracted by normality,
slipping through the well-greased gears
of a self-made reality,
then a singing hint of burnt toast
ripples through suddenly aware
nostril hair.
What should you do today -
walk the mood off
or pray brother pray?
Will the monstrous appear,
its likeness --- cute and kittenish,
though even now
new velvet satanic horns
are already budding.
Will the fuzz and fur turn quickly
to scabs and scales?
Sinister left-handed slaps of hysteria
swipe the sweat from wrinkled foreheads.
In a room bereft of natural illumination,
a light on an open laptop is blinking,
imagination types a nightmare
on the underside of its blank screen.
Brains unchecked by reason,
swivel inside their bony portholes,
they search this way and that
for a more feasible fantasy
before this amorphous apprehension
emerges fully clothed
as an all too familiar
mirror image.
What secrets lurk in my mind,
What forces torment my soul?
Secrets of some sinister kind,
Forces of evil eyes, black as coal!
I can sense your pounding heart
And smell the sweat of your fear,
Lo! I say so in truth from the start
So you are forewarned, be clear.
I thirst for blood, warm and red
And a virgin's heart I wildly desire,
If you read any further you'll be led
down a path to the pit of fiery fire.
I cast diabolical spells with words
to lure you into a satanic ritual,
I use no knives, arrows or swords,
It's purely carnal and not spiritual.
Do not read this poem twice
It will trigger invocation to a spirit
And turn your warm blood into ice
And let me your soul to inherit.
For I have made a pact with the Devil,
I am offered worldly wealth and power
To lead you down the dire path of evil
And with your blood my soul to scour!
~"Tales from the Dark Side" contest by Kelly Deschler
IN THIRTY-FIVE MINUTES
The angels are rushing and running left to right,
they are careful as wounded-soldier eyes plead
as thirty-five minutes ago...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Earth-quaking are the sounds. On the dance floor
is a number of halcyon Romeo and Juliet swaying smooth
under an umbrella of blinking lights: red and green.
Clinks! Clinks from tossed liquor filled glasses
with loud chats and laughter crowd the air when---
tenacious shakes strike and slip their ground.
Spiky trembles trip on spines, pounds grip hearts
as the mad shaking earth beneath brawls and growls.
They wanted to jet fly but they are tight trapped
to a web of disaster. Satanic is this villain.
Outside, sleeping pipes spurt! Shocked current wires fire!
Anxious buildings cracked! Worried bridge fell apart!
Disturbed waves began their tidal rolls, higher and higher
as they land the shore. Thunder and lighting rule the skies,
sad helpless clouds cry and cry flooding everywhere...
Passed the thirty-five minutes, stinky is the breeze
ragged dirty doll-like bodies are strewn all around...
_________________________________________________
Sponsor Debbie Guzzi
Contest Name Death and Dying
++Placed 3rd++
O.E. Guillermo
9:27 pm, June 28, 2015
Transistors fizz
Electrons bustle
As robots claim
The daily hustle
The hinges creak
The oil of words
Is missing from
The mindless herds
They oft parade
With heads bowed low
Quite frankly,
Nowhere else to go
As hooked in tasks
In ruts with traction
Replace the normal
Human faction
Robots make robots
Or so I'm told
They replicate
The lies they're sold
Perpetuating
All that manic
In ways that seem
Somewhat satanic
The robot wars
Are not to fear
Just realise that they
Are here
Dispense with screen
Release your mind
In un-robotic ways
You'll find
The beauty of
The world around
When eyes you lift
Will soon be found;
Through trees and rain
Bare feet on grass
A world machines
Can ne'er surpass
The pores of life
Should breathe it in
Beguiled no more
By wars of tin.
grandmothers, mothers and aunts
women praying warriors
they know about the goodness
and power of God
they know that there is a spiritual
battle going on
don't discount them, don't disregard them
they are warrior women praying
on the Christian battlefield
trying to save souls
placing God's protection around
those that they love
those women who attend church every Sunday
and Bible study every Wednesday night
praying warriors on the front line
calling down the omnipotent powers
of the Holy Trinity to intercede
fighting against satanic and demonic
strongholds and principalities
wearing the FULL ARMOR OF GOD
girded in Truth with the Breastplate of Righteousness
feet shod in Preparation of the Gospel of Peace
holding firmly up the Shield of Faith
donning the Helmet of Salvation
and wielding the Sword of the Spirit in Victory
those little old ladies who go to church every Sunday
PRAYING WARRIORS against spiritual hosts of wickedness
Grey clouds the innocent sky ambushing light turns dark
stumbling over a tombstone opening up cold graves
When eyes become frozen behind scenes in hidden truth
as a weight deadens upon the shoulders without hope
A ghost from past experience consumes the present
and golden sands blacken beneath your feet fallen one
Deep undercurrents strains awaken in the ocean
Invisible cloaked dagger pierces without mercy
I pray waters calming find peace in this mortal frame
as the whirlpool of desires casts an ominous spell
Upon the sea of life Satanic storms enter Hell
and exudes within the malevolent clouds failure
Forgiveness stands at the crossroads beholden no more
within promise of a dream transparent through the rain
As yellow moonlight draws one pathway clearly cutting
brings you safely home to love under a fragile roof
Under black currents of loss when the heart returns beat
in the last teardrop sorrow remained faithfully loved
A Collaborated Poem written by Liam Mc Daid and Red Firey
They Can have Weapons, Protect themselves, but We cannot..?
With all you know and all you suppose,
It stands to reason then, does it not,
Our innate ability, although predisposed..
To suffering and our tragic lot
To protect one's family against all foes..
They have armies guns and worse,
Humanity now perceives it has lost,
To gain insight listen, reciting verse,
You couldn't actually count the cost
So into oblivion, or to relinquish those,
That enslave you now though still unbeknownst,
The origins of which are -
A considerably dark violent ethos,
For this evil Cabaal a prepared cuisine
No further cooking is required to feed,
Mindless zombies into satanic pot,
No way out if you do not fight back,
Hang on..
They Can have Weapons, Protect themselves, but We cannot..?
So Second Amendment then not withstanding,
All future generations must now depend upon,
Humanity's capacity, to now comprehending,
A well armed Militia under the stars,
Requires..
The simple right to defend what's ours,
Whether they know it now or not,
As in this case then Life itself,
We must now preserve it
But do not take a bow,
Or accept technocratic enslavement by mass
A.I Bot..
Our children our ancestors to honour - or to disavow,
Lament sad willful indulgence or..
Stand up and fight for God's
gift to us,
And in his name.
Consider these words to then discuss,
Compliant inertia only festers blame,
Protect all goodness in essential
Trust
For all of us here and not just me,
Remember..,
Material Spiritual, all or bust..
If they can have weapons then so can We.
Kurt Hubbard-Beale
During covid 19 lockdown
Jan 22 2022
The PoetTree
Awaken Poetry. Awareness Poetry. Geopolitical. Philosophical. Music. Shared